


My Queen

by PiccoloFiori



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: After Frigga dies, Also plots to take over the throne, During Thor: The Dark World, F/M, Fluff, Little bit of angst, and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1845391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiccoloFiori/pseuds/PiccoloFiori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come in, (y/n), if you’re not afraid of the big, bad wolf.” He beckons you.</p><p>A nod from the guard, signals the approval. The forcefield swallows you as you step through.</p><p>“What have I to fear?” You step closer to him. “You would not dare hurt me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Queen

You find him in his cell.

“Strange,” you study the Asgardian. “I would have thought that the Trickster would be the one initiating the escape, not sitting in confinement, waiting for redemption.”

He sneers at you, pacing the prison. “That, my dear, is why I am the wolf, and you are the sheep.” He pauses in front of the barrier, a twisted expression on his face. “And where is my brother? Still mourning?”

You stare him down.

“Enough, Loki. Take down your illusions.”

He holds your gaze, for a second he stands firm, before releasing a defeated sigh. “I never could deceive you.”

The scene before you shifts, the structure and balance of the set room changes to chaos. The furniture is scattered in pieces around him, his meal thrown to the ground, blood – his own? – stains the floor. And Loki. He sits against the wall, the center of the wreckage.

“Come in, (y/n), if you’re not afraid of the big, bad wolf.” He beckons you.

A nod from the guard, signals the approval. The forcefield swallows you as you step through.

“What have I to fear?” You step closer to him. “You would not dare hurt me.”

“So you believe.”

You sit, gingerly placing your bottom on the ground. “So I know.”

He avoids your gaze, staring at the wall before him. 

“You are allowed to mourn, Loki.”

Your eyes finally meet. “Am I?’

Your fingers have a mind of their own, threading themselves between his. He glances down, then continues his pensive glares at the barrier.

“She was your mother as well.”

“No, she was not.”

You squeeze his hand softly, scooting closer. “You loved her.”

“I did not.” He ignores your actions.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips as you reach up to grasp his chin. His face turns towards you, the desired product of you acts.

“A mother is not the woman who births the child, but the one who nurtures him.” You force him to meet your eyes. “She loved you, Loki, and you loved her. Do not deny it.”

You release your grasp, allowing him to turn back to the wall. 

“I never could deceive you.” The small whisper doesn’t escape your ears.

You sit in silence, still grasping his hand, occasionally stroking his knuckles. Your next maneuver surprises you both.

“What are you doing?” Loki sits, frozen in your embrace.

You nuzzle the crook of his neck. “Giving you a hug.”

“Why?”

A smile overtakes your features. “It’s Midgardian medicine. Best cure for the blues.”

Silence meets your statement.

“Well, it’s not working.” 

“Maybe,” you chuckle lightly, “if you relaxed, it would work better.”

Slowly, his body released its tension, and tentative arms wrapped around you.

“That’s it, Loki. You’re doing great.”

“Be quiet.”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound sending shivers up his spine. This was the perfect moment. You lean in closer to his ear, your lips tickling his senses. His body tightens in anticipation for the kiss.

“He’s coming,” you whisper. His disappointment is evident. “Be ready.”

“And what of it?” His words are hidden by your hair.

“It’s your chance, is it not? To finally be king?”

He understands now, and his body is rigid. “You are sure of it?”

You place a chaste kiss below his earlobe. A tiny tremor wracks his body. “Positive.”

Finally, you pull away, knowing the guard will become suspicious of your awkwardly long embrace. As you stand to leave, he pulls you back over and plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Thank you.” The whisper is quick and quiet.

You smile at him, bending down to kiss him, full on the lips. 

“Just remember me,” you face him as the barrier pulls you back, “when your time finally comes.”

As you walk out the dungeons, the soft words caress your ears. “How could I ever forget you, my queen?”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have conflicted feelings about Thor: The Dark World because I find the plot is really . . . ehhh. But, I do love Loki and Thor and Frigga.  
> And Odin is a jerk.  
> Also, I hate writing in 2nd person because the only way I can establish point of view is by repeating the words "you" and "your" over and over, and it gets repetitive and annoying.


End file.
